


Remains

by lovehaunts



Series: Benefaction [6]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Argentina, Biting, Bottom Hannibal Lecter, Bruises, Come Eating, El Calafate, Established Relationship, Felching, Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, M/M, Murder Husbands, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Recovered Memories, Referenced Child Murder, Referenced Necrophilia, Referenced murder, Rimming, Rough Sex, Spit As Lube, Top Will Graham, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, Will Graham Loves Hannibal Lecter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 10:40:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27469657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovehaunts/pseuds/lovehaunts
Summary: Hannibal closes his eyes briefly before looking again at Will. The blotchiness of Will’s cheeks and the swollen rims of his eyes now tell a different story, and not one about a simple winter morning walk."How much do you remember?" Hannibal asks, carefully.Will turns to him. "I remember everything. Every damn detail, down to the colors of the bedroom walls: yellow and blue, then stained red."*****Set shortly after my story "Oblations."
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Series: Benefaction [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1916554
Comments: 19
Kudos: 84





	Remains

**Author's Note:**

> for more info about the "referenced child murder" tag, see end notes. Spoilers be there, but it all happens very quickly in the fic itself.

From the study, Hannibal hears the front door of the house open. It’s followed by the tapping of paws across the kitchen’s tile floor and the ensuing sloshing of water as Toby and Lola drink from their bowls. All appears normal following Will's after breakfast walk with the dogs.

What is not normal, however, is the apparent absence of Will himself.

After these walks, Will can usually be heard in the kitchen, preparing lunch for them both. The sounds of water running, the refrigerator opening, a cutting board being placed: today, all of these noises are conspicuously absent.

Hannibal sits at his drawing table, sharpening his pencil with a scalpel, and listens. The only sounds are of the footfalls of the dogs, and those soon cease, likely due to them settling into their beds to rest. Nothing seems amiss other than the absence of their owner.

Hannibal finishes the detail on the second spire of the Catedral de La Plata and then rises, pocketing the scalpel.

The front door is wide open. Hannibal is apprehensive before he notices Will outside, bent at the waist with his elbows resting on the wood railing of their porch. He's staring straight ahead at the lake and mountains, his face flushed in the crisp El Calafate air. He doesn't acknowledge Hannibal's approach. Hannibal matches Will's stance beside him and waits to learn what has altered his husband’s behavior.

He doesn't have to wait for long.

"It was a family in Havana, wasn't it?" Will says, his gaze still focused on the Andes. "Husband, wife. Two kids, both young boys."

Hannibal closes his eyes briefly before looking again at Will. The blotchiness of Will’s cheeks and the swollen rims of his eyes now tell a different story, and not one about a simple winter morning walk.

"How much do you remember?" Hannibal asks, carefully.

Will turns to him. "I remember everything. Every damn detail, down to the colors of the bedroom walls: yellow and blue, then stained red."

Will straightens and turns, resting back against the railing. He crosses his arms and continues, his tone and words clinical. "I cut the wife's throat and shot the husband in the stomach as they lay asleep. Then I went into the children's room and shot the boys in their beds. After that, I returned to the husband and wife, and the husband bled out and watched while I...Christ, Hannibal." He buries his face in his hands.

Hannibal draws close and gently takes Will's hands into his own. "It wasn't you."

Will laughs bitterly. "Well, it sure as hell felt like me."

"Will, listen to me. You were not yourself for a long time before this incident. This was the Dragon's influence, aggravated by trauma from the fall and by a desire to recapture the feeling from that night when nothing else had worked."

Will shakes his head, a sad smile on his lips. "I still did it."

Hannibal runs his thumb over Will’s knuckles and nods. “You did.”

Will breathes out slowly and looks off to the side, his brow furrowing in concentration. "The night I first kissed you and then wanted you to fuck me, that was the same night I killed them, right? I remembered more details than before."

(Will, so anguished and irresistible that night in Havana. Will, covered in blood, an absolute wonder that he hadn't been picked up on the way back to their apartment. Will, reaching for Hannibal, kissing him and pressing tight against his body. Will, making such lovely, broken noises and begging Hannibal to fuck him, the vulgar desperation of it all. Will, removing his shirt and revealing more blood underneath, so much blood that hadn’t been visible through the black fabric. Will, his face crumbling when Hannibal had stopped him, demanding to know what had happened.)

"Yes," Hannibal says, "I believe it was another clutch for balance."

Will raises both eyebrows. "And yet you say I wasn't myself." His head tilts. "What happened after? I can't remember that."

"The policía considered it to be a Tooth Fairy copycat, and I provided them with an easy scapegoat. Fortunately the bite marks were done in such a manner that it was impossible to match dental records."

"Fortunately," Will scoffs and takes a step away, his hands dropping from Hannibal's.

"You asked me to help you," Hannibal says. "To help you forget. I provided a combination of hypnosis and drugs, along with the power of suggestion. Your own mind did most of the work, however. In regard to the act itself, the goal was to weave your memory of it into your knowledge about the Leeds and Jacobi families."

"And it worked. For seven years it worked."

"I knew there was a possibility you'd remember. I had hoped you wouldn't."

"Did you—" Will clears his throat. "I know that I wanted you before, that I wanted this. I'm certain of that. But was there anything else that you..." He breaks eye contact.

"Will. Look at me." When he does, Hannibal steps forward and softly kisses him before giving Will his space again. "I only did as you asked. Nothing more, I promise."

Will swallows. "Is this why you bring me gifts?"

"No,” Hannibal replies, and the comfort this brings Will is evident in the way his shoulders and jaw relax. “But it's why they've all been male. I'd feared it would be too close if any were female."

"And here I thought they'd all resembled you because of vanity." Will's mouth quirks in a way that Hannibal mirrors.

"That as well."

Will turns back to the majesty of the mountains, to the calm of the lake. "These were innocents."

"I've killed innocents as well—far more by your definition of 'innocent' than by my own. You have forgiven mine. You can forgive yourself of your own."

Will studies Hannibal over his shoulder. "Any literal children on your list?"

Hannibal is silent.

Will presses his lips together and nods. "Yeah, I didn’t think so." He rubs between his eyes. "It's getting late. Come on, I'll make us lunch." He begins to walk back to the house.

"Will," Hannibal calls out. "You're in a different place now than you were then. You will get through this."

Will pauses at the open door, his fingers drumming against its frame before responding. "I know I will, Hannibal. That just makes it worse." He goes inside.

* * *

For the rest of the day, Will is quiet, but he doesn’t shy away from Hannibal’s company. After lunch, they lounge together on the leather sofa in the study to read. Will chooses his well-worn copy of Jorge Luis Borges's _Ficciones_ from the shelves and places his socked feet across Hannibal's lap the moment they sit down. Hannibal rests his right hand on Will's ankle between page turns of André Gide's _L'Immoraliste_.

Dinner is a simple affair. Earlier, Hannibal had decided against going into town for much needed visits to the butcher and grocer, so they make do with the limited ingredients they have. With a late lunch, a light dinner is best anyway. Will is silent as he slices and roasts cherry tomatoes for the linguine, but he's receptive when Hannibal passes by and kisses his cheek. During the meal itself, Hannibal doesn't seek conversation and Will does not offer any.

The silence follows them into the den. Will prepares their drinks, pouring far more than two fingers of Glenfiddich into his own glass. When Hannibal finishes his drink and rises for bed, Will declines to join him with a shake of his head. He instead stays in his armchair, his eyes fixed on the fireplace with his second heavy pour in his hand.

Later, when Will slides into bed and kisses Hannibal, the whiskey on his breath is stronger than it has been for a very long time.

Will quickly deepens the kiss and climbs on top of Hannibal, his cock already hard within his boxers. He clasps Hannibal’s jaw and presses his palm firmly against Hannibal's throat as he ravages his mouth and bites at his lips.

Will strips them both and spits into his hand, slicking himself up and passing a cursory wet finger over Hannibal’s entrance. A delicious burn travels up Hannibal's spine as Will pushes his mostly dry cock inside. Will pauses when fully seated, his eyes closed and his face illuminated by the full moon.

Will takes Hannibal's wrists and brings them up to either side of Hannibal's head, bracing himself on them as he rocks. Hannibal's bones shift under Will's weight, and Hannibal’s eyes squeeze shut in ecstasy as Will's hands tighten and his thrusts grow more brutal. Will's harsh grunts fill their bedroom as he uses Hannibal as just a body, as just a means to integrate a collection of images and actions. Hannibal bites his tongue to stop the groans threatening to emerge from his throat.

Will's rhythm falters and he bends down, his teeth finding the meat of Hannibal's left shoulder. He bites hard when he comes, just shy of piercing through the skin, and he holds the flesh inside his mouth as he continues to move within Hannibal. When Will's movements cease, he releases Hannibal’s shoulder with a pained gasp and presses his tear-streaked face into Hannibal's neck.

Blood and feeling return to Hannibal's hands as Will's grip slackens on his wrists. Hannibal can already tell that the bruising will be substantial both there and on his shoulder, and he eagerly anticipates seeing it all blossom. Both he and Will relish physical marks of passion upon the other, although Hannibal wonders if these ones will elicit a different response from Will.

Hannibal had been still and passive throughout this act, just as Will had needed him to be, but now he brings his arms around Will and holds his husband tightly as fine tremors wrack his body.

While in the den earlier, Hannibal had expected for Will to once again slip him the pills needed to induce deep sleep. Hannibal had laid in bed waiting for the gradual effects to take hold, waiting to be left with only echoes of whatever Will chose to do with his unconscious body. But had that happened, this gentle solace would've been absent, and Will would have been left alone in the aftermath.

Hannibal whispers softly to Will as he calms down, rubbing soothing circles along Will's spine. Hannibal is hard between them, but it'll fade. This was for Will. Hannibal hopes it helped, at least in the moment.

"Do you want me to do anything?" Will asks, his voice muffled against Hannibal's skin. He shifts slightly and kisses the new mark on Hannibal's shoulder, the press of his mouth a beautiful ache. Perhaps Hannibal won't need to battle Will's remorse in the light of day.

"I'm fine, dear boy," Hannibal says, answering questions both spoken and unspoken. He lifts Will's head and wipes the residual wetness from his cheeks. He kisses Will's forehead, his lips trailing across the one mark he himself is the closest to regretting.

When Will pulls out, it's such a delightful raw drag that Hannibal is powerless to stop his cry of pleasure. Will chuckles and kisses him lightly.

"Are you sure you don't want me to do anything? Not even clean you up?" Will asks, lips brushing Hannibal's. He runs his tongue around the edges of Hannibal's mouth, an imitation of a far more intimate act. His wicked, capricious boy. "Not even kiss it and make it all better?"

Hannibal groans and he sees a flash of teeth in the moonlight as Will smiles. Will then slides down Hannibal’s body, urging Hannibal to bring his knees up to his chest.

Will shows no mercy as he licks up the traces of his own spent from Hannibal's sore hole, his bristly stubble rubbing against delicate areas made tender from rough treatment. Will's tongue spears inside and his lips create a seal, the sound obscene as he tries to retrieve what he can from within.

Moaning as Will ravishes him, Hannibal strokes his cock and pulls at his bruised nipple, still a sweet agony more than a week after Will thoroughly abused it. Will withdraws his tongue, and he bites and kisses and sucks the puffy rim until Hannibal comes, his hole spasming against Will's ravenous mouth. Not satisfied by only consuming his own release, his gluttonous boy laps up Hannibal's seed from his hairy stomach and hungrily takes between his lips the come covered fingers Hannibal offers him.

After, they move to their sides under the covers, and Hannibal brings Will's back snug against his chest, his arms enfolding him.

Will draws a nail down Hannibal's left wrist scar, the nascent bruising bringing a glimmer of sensation to an area where it's been largely absent for over a decade. He takes Hannibal's hand into both of his. "What were their names?" he asks, playing with Hannibal's wedding band.

"Will—”

"Please, Hannibal," Will stops him. "I need to know."

Hannibal kisses Will's shoulder before giving names to the four faces in Will's mind. "Adelmo, Yvelis. Hector and Arturo. The Hernández family."

Will takes a deep breath and exhales. "Thank you," he says. He squeezes Hannibal's hand and doesn't let go.

"Rest," Hannibal murmurs into Will's ear, bringing their clasped hands to Will's chest, against his heart. "Rest, my love, rest."

Will sinks into Hannibal’s embrace and he is soon asleep, the combination of sex, whiskey, and revelations catching up to him.

Hannibal holds Will close and doesn't sleep, standing guard for when the nightmares inevitably come.

**Author's Note:**

> about "referenced child murder": Under a whole slew of influences that were out of his control, Will commited a Dolarhyde type murder of a family in Havana, including two kids. There is no explicit descriptions of the murders, it's all very procedural. 
> 
> Thank you to the always lovely [MaddieContrary](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaddieContrary) for the beta and the support! ❤ And thank you to [hauntedstarcollection](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hauntedstarcollection), [tanathil](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tanathil), and [hail_aphrodite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hail_aphrodite/) for always providing words of encouragement! ❤❤❤


End file.
